


Whumptober 2020 - 18 - Nothing Personal

by Celticgal1041



Series: Whumptober 2020 [18]
Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:14:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27089971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celticgal1041/pseuds/Celticgal1041
Summary: They’ve buried me alive! That was his last thought before his mind completely shut down, and his unconscious form slumped sideways against the concrete wall of his cell.
Series: Whumptober 2020 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949548
Comments: 13
Kudos: 34
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Whumptober 2020 - 18 - Nothing Personal

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a continuation of my day 17 prompt fill: "Guilty? " I don't think it's necessary to read that one to understand this story, but would be thrilled if you did. Enjoy!

It had been a week since his beating at Noa Okupu’s hands, which had been followed by a “wee bit of surgery” as his doctor had liked to say. Part of Magnum had been disappointed that he hadn’t just died in his cell, but a guard had arrived to check on them just in time to prevent that final outcome.

Today, he’d been released from the hospital where they’d saved his life, having been deemed healthy enough to finish his recovery back at Halawa. The only concession to his fragile state was that he’d be placed into a cell alone, and Magnum knew he should be grateful, but found himself unable to dredge up enough emotion to care.

He still ached. Another thing about prisoners is that doctors seldom ‘waste’ any of the really good drugs on them. As a result, Magnum had been struggling to manage his pain on nothing more than a few extra-strength Tylenol, which he received twice each day. The pills barely touched the throbbing ache in his side, and he spent most of his days and nights awake due to the unrelenting pain.

Dealing with physical pain was an inconvenience, but one he’d normally be able to handle, if it not for the emotional consequences of his incarceration. Shortly after he’d been brought to the hospital, as he lay awake staring at the gray ceiling tiles above his head, he’d heard them.

_“Please, we just want to see him and make sure he’s alright,” Higgins voice pleaded._

_“He’s in custody and can’t have any visitors,” an unknown male voice replied._

_“Look, man, I get it – you’re just doing your job. But you gotta understand what it’s like to know that one of your best friends is hurt, badly enough to need surgery, and need to lay eyes on him to know he’s okay,” Rick chimed in._

_A few moments of silence passed, before TC spoke. “We don’t even have to go inside. Just let us look through the window,” he suggested reasonably._

_The guard seemed to waver, and Thomas’ heartrate spiked with equal parts trepidation and anticipation of getting to see his friends one last time. Then a new voice joined in, dashing his hopes. “Pua, who are these people?”_

_“They’re friends of Magnum’s,” the first guard replied. “They want to see for themselves that he’s okay.”_

_“No way,” the second man stated resolutely. “You know the rules. If you want to see him, wait till he’s back at Halawa and find out if he’s allowed to have visitors.”_

_“Oh, come on,” Rick immediately protested, but was cut off._

_“You need to leave – now,” the second guard stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. Inside the hospital room, a single tear flowed unchecked down Magnum’s cheek._

He’d need to be tougher if he hoped to survive whatever lay in store for him. After a few days’ reflection, he was certain being placed with Noa was no accident. The rehashing of his previous mission was bringing up uncomfortable questions for anyone even remotely involved and would best be resolved by identifying a scapegoat to take the blame. Even better would be if that scapegoat never lived to face a trial, leaving the sordid details of the op unspoken. He’d have to be more careful from now on.

He shuffled beside the guard as well as he could, which was clearly not good enough given the frequent scowls he was receiving from the uniformed man. Normally, Magnum might have tried to pick up the pace, but right now he couldn’t be bothered. With the wicked ache in his side, which was only exacerbated by his upright position, he was more focused on not puking or, worse yet, passing out.

His escort jerked a bit at Thomas’ biceps, pulling a gasp a pain from his lips as his tender torso was jarred. “Come on, already,” the man complained. “I don’t have all day you know.”

Biting his lip, Magnum gave a shaky head nod in reply, but there was simply no way he could move any faster than he already was. By the time they reached another non-descript metal door, Thomas was trembling with pain, his face covered in a fine sheen of sweat, which showed clearly how much the long trip through the prison hallways had cost him.

He moved gratefully through the open doorway and barely noticed his handcuffs being removed, simply leaning against the closest wall as he slumped to the floor in a semi-controlled descent. Wrapping his arms around his midsection, he closed his eyes and focused on pushing back the pain, imagining it flowing from his body with each ragged exhale. After several long minutes, he was able to blink the moisture from his eyes, his gaze settling on the tiny, dimly lit space that would be his home for who knew how long.

With a resigned sigh, he used the wall at his back to gain his feet, crossing the small space to the spartan bunk attached to one wall. He collapsed onto the lumpy mattress and settled onto his back, letting exhaustion pull him under in a brief escape from his misery.

* * *

“There’s got to be something we can do,” Rick ranted, hands gesturing to emphasize his point as he paced from one end of the room to the other. “How’s it possible that you can’t get in to see him?” he asked, staring accusingly at Katsumoto.

The detective dropped his head for just a moment, reminding himself that Wright’s words weren’t really aimed at him but at the situation they found themselves in. With more patience than he felt, he explained, “Whoever’s controlling this has got enough authority to block HPD and regular prison channels, making Magnum strictly off-limits for the foreseeable future.”

Rick scrubbed a hand through his hair in frustration, turning away from everyone for a moment before asking of the room in general, “You know he didn’t do this, right?”

He was met with a trio of nods, even though Katsumoto had already been able to confirm that Magnum had been arrested for the murder of an alleged non-combatant during his time in Iraq. Choosing her words carefully, Higgins raised the question that they’d all been pondering, but no one had voiced until now, “Is there any chance he’s guilty?”

Rick turned on her with a predatory look in his eyes, only backing down when TC rested a warm hand on his arm. “Actually, there’s a strong chance he did it,” TC agreed. “But no way the guy he killed was innocent. If that’d been the case, TM would’ve turned himself in years ago.”

Wright nodded in agreement with his friend’s words. Thomas was far from perfect, but his integrity was beyond reproach and there was absolutely no possibility he would have killed someone without direct orders to do, backed by reliable evidence of the man’s status as a member of ISIS.

“Look,” Katsumoto began, attempting to calm heated emotions, “at least we know he’s alive and recovering.” Rick nodded sullenly at the detective’s words, having gotten that information himself from one of his contacts at the hospital soon after they’d been turned away from visiting the ailing man.

“I’ve got some feelers out through my contacts at MI-6,” Higgins reminded him. “I realize it’s been nearly two weeks, but intelligence gathering can take time.”

“And McGarrett at Five-0 has taken an interest in Magnum’s case. He’s got lots of contact in the Navy plus some at the CIA; if anyone can uncover anything useful, it’ll be him,” Katsumoto added.

Rick nodded tersely, the tension in his back and shoulders telegraphing his anxiety. “I know,” he bit out, trying to calm himself. “I just feel so – damn – helpless.”

TC stepped closer to the smaller man, throwing his arm fully over his shoulders and giving him a comforting squeeze. None of them were immune from worrying about the absent P.I., but Wright was the one among them who wore his heart on his sleeve. While it was likely healthy that he didn’t keep his feelings bottled up inside, it also meant the others spent more time reassuring him than they might otherwise. Fortunately, none of them seemed to mind, finding comfort in supporting the other man.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath as he regained his balance, Rick announced, “Alright, I’m going to see if there’s any news from inside Halawa.” Katsumoto raised a questioning eyebrow, prompting Wright to shrug and add, “I know a guy.”

They went around the room in that fashion, each stating their intended next steps, while wondering the whole time how their friend was faring behind bars.

* * *

Magnum was roused from his broken sleep by the sound of sliding metal, alerting him to the arrival of his dinner. His stomach gave an unhappy lurch at the thought of eating, but he knew he needed to keep up his strength. Shakily, he pushed himself into a seated position on the bed, grimacing at the sticky sweat that covered his body.

His steps were uneven as he crossed the room, but he managed to take the proffered tray from the guard’s hands, muttering a hoarse thanks before the metal slot was closed again. He carried his dinner to the small table that jutted from one wall, placing it down to have a proper look at his meal: some sort of unidentifiable meat slathered in gravy, mashed potatoes that were more gray than white, and mushy string beans. His stomach flipped again, and he turned away from the meal in disgust.

While a far cry from a five-star offering, he’d eaten worse and lived to tell the tale, but these days it took very little to aggravate his sensitive stomach. It had been three days since his return to Halawa and he hadn’t received any medical attention that entire time. While not expecting much in the way of care, he’d thought someone would at least ensure he received his daily dose of antibiotics, which his doctor at the hospital had ordered him to take, no matter what.

He’d tried to ask a guard about his pills on his second day back, but the man had simply shrugged and walked away, clearly disinterested in doing anything even remotely helpful. Now, Magnum was feeling the effects of a growing infection, his body continually fluctuating between too hot and too cold as a fever took hold.

Sighing carefully, he braced his broken ribs with one arm and lowered himself carefully to the cot. Before he could get settled again, the metal slot near the top of his door opened, a precursor to receiving a visitor. He watched with curiosity as the slot closed and the door opened.

Dropping his head for a moment, he huffed out a mirthless chuckle. Lifting his face to his visitor, he greeted the man. “Jeff Stone, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The agent moved inside the doorway and nodded to someone outside who closed the door behind him. “Thomas Magnum,” Stone replied, casting an appraising eye over the former SEAL. “Not looking too hot these days.”

Smirking slightly, Magnum answered, “Oh, I’m plenty hot, but I think that’s more because of my fever than anything else.”

Stone nodded thoughtfully, seeming pleased with the investigator’s response. Growing irritated, Thomas asked, “Why are you here?”

“It’s my job to check on the welfare of anyone in my custody,” the agent replied.

Magnum narrowed his eyes, countering the man’s expression of interest. “Is it also your job to withhold medical care from someone who’s been injured?”

Stone shrugged. “That’s up to the administration here at Halawa.”

“Just like it’s at their discretion to decide who occupies each cell?” Thomas prodded.

“Exactly,” Stone replied, his lips turning upward in a smile.

It was all the confirmation Magnum needed to know he’d been set up, and that the CIA was still pulling the strings. Far from coming to check on his wellbeing, Stone wanted to see how far gone he was, so he’d know when to return to claim his dead body. Shaking his head slowly, Thomas said, “And this is why I could never be a spook.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Stone replied conversationally. “You did a pretty decent job of it in Iraq.”

“Obviously not good enough if I’m being accused of murder now,” Thomas countered bitterly.

“Nah, that’s just the game,” Stone assured him. “Dog eat dog – someone who’s your friend today is likely to be your enemy tomorrow. It’s nothing personal.”

Magnum huffed as he replied, “Feels pretty damn personal to me.”

Glancing at the untouched tray, Stone reached over and snagged it. “I’ll just take this out for you, shall I?” he asked with a grin on his face. “Since you seem to have lost your appetite.” Shifting closer to the door, he gave two short raps. “You take care of yourself,” he finished, winking at the P.I. before exiting the cell.

Lowering himself to lie down on the bed, Magnum left one arm cradling his ribs while the other covered his eyes. He was screwed. The CIA had never had any intention of prosecuting him, and it had likely been an unfortunate fluke that Okupu had failed to kill him on his first night at Halawa. Now, he faced a slow, miserable death from starvation, infection, or probably a combination of the two. Reaching down with one hand, he snagged the thin blanket and pulled it around his shoulders, shivering from more than just physical distress.

He drifted off into an uneasy sleep, the first twitch of his fingers coming just a short ten minutes into his sleep, signalling the beginning of his dream state. As the seconds dragged by, his involuntary movements grew more frequent and pronounced, while his breaths grew shorter and louder. Mumbled words spilled forth from parted lips, his head rolling from one side to the other as he sought to escape the images in his head.

A cry of pain emanated from deep inside his throat as his hands moved towards his chest in a defensive posture. Unaware, he curled onto one side, whimpering when the movement tugged on the stitches holding his skin together. Gasping sharply, he suddenly recoiled, his eyes flying open to dart unseeingly around the room.

A moment later, he was falling from the cot, his legs getting tangled in the blanket that had been covering him. He sprawled on the floor, partially on his stomach, a voice in his head screaming for him to get away from his tormentors. Panting without really drawing any air, he scratched at the floor as he pulled his body forward to get to safety.

His crawl was ungainly, and he dragged the blanket behind him, the thin fabric still snagged around one leg. His journey ended when he struck the wall of his cell with his head, prompting him to pull his limbs inward as he tried to make himself smaller. Wrapping his arms around his bent legs, he tucked his face into his knees, tremors crawling up and down his slim form.

His breathing turned even more ragged as broken ribs pressed against his lungs, and his world tunneled accordingly. In his mind, he was back in the hole, the darkness of it pressing against him from all sides. The fear was oppressive and threatened to swallow him whole, making it increasingly harder to breathe. He moaned piteously as every ache in his body screamed, reminding him of how badly he’d been beaten before being tossed back into the pit.

He would die here, not having the strength to hold on any longer. The frenetic shaking of his body increased as the breaths sawed in and out of his lungs, white spots appearing behind his tightly clenched eyes. ‘I don’t want to die!’ he screamed inside his head as broken sobs interspersed with ragged breaths. He was lightheaded with the lack of oxygen, the tightness in his chest only adding to his panic. _They’ve buried me alive!_ That was his last thought before his mind completely shut down, and his unconscious form slumped sideways against the concrete wall of his cell.

* * *

“Bring him to us right now,” Higgins demanded, emphasizing the last two words while she glared unblinkingly at the warden.

Stepping in to intervene, Katsumoto said “You’ve received all the proper documentation stating Thomas Magnum has been cleared of all charges.” Glancing at the two tense men standing behind him, he continued, “If you don’t want us to start searching for him on our own, I suggest you do as the lady asks.”

They’d arrived at Halawa nearly an hour prior and been escorted to the warden’s office fifteen minutes later. The bureaucrat had taken the next fifteen minutes to review their paperwork before making a call to have Magnum brought to his office. The subsequent thirty had been spent making stilted conversation as the foursome waited with barely supressed impatience for the arrival of their friend.

“I’m certain he’ll be here shortly,” the warden replied, growing nervous at the amount of time the process was taking. A knock at the door followed his words, and his face split into a smile as he said, “Ah, see, here he is.” Raising his voice, he called, “Enter.”

“Oh my God!”

“What the hell!”

The exclamations of surprise spilled out from the friends at the sight that greeted them when the door opened. Held upright by two burly guards was Magnum, his glazed eyes standing out from a face that was both too gaunt and too pale. It was clear he was only on his feet because of the support at his sides, his entire being radiating exhaustion and illness.

Rick and TC immediately moved forward, shoving their way in to take the guards’ positions. With barely contained anger, Higgins returned her gaze to the warden. “Release his hands.”

With a nod to one of the uniformed men, the administrator indicated his agreement with the request, prompting the guard to unlock and remove the cuffs from Magnum’s wrists. Feeling the heated emotions in the room, Katsumoto softened his tone as he addressed the three friends. “Get him to the hospital and get him checked out. I’ll deal with things here.”

With a curt nod, Higgins walked stiffly from the room, following the already retreating men who couldn’t wait to get their friend away from the prison. Returning his focus to the warden, Katsumoto said, “ _You_ can start by explaining to me why a man in your custody looks half-dead.”

* * *

Thomas started awake again, his breathing too fast for his broken ribs, making him wince and groan in pain.

“It’s okay, Tommy, we’ve got you,” Rick soothed, his hand gently mopping the sweat from his friend’s brow. The doctors figured Magnum was in an altered state because of his high fever, but his friends knew better, unfortunately all too familiar with trauma-induced panic attacks. Several long seconds later, Thomas’ eyes closed, his body unable to fight against the strong drugs he was receiving. Seeing his friend’s body grow slack, Wright sat back in his seat, trying to control his anger at the investigator’s condition.

They’d been shown to a cubicle in emergency right away, the nurse at the admissions’ desk apparently having been warned of their arrival by a call from a detective at HPD. They’d been immensely grateful for Katsumoto’s thoughtful gesture, their concern having grown in leaps and bounds during their journey.

Magnum was burning up and clearly in pain, the lines of discomfort etched deeply in his too thin face. He occasionally let out a soft moan to voice his discomfort and used his remaining strength to guard his sore flank. While TC had driven, Rick had managed to get a quick look beneath the bandage under Thomas’ sweat stained shirt, horrified to find a red and weepy incision that screamed of infection.

The rest of him was no better, and his ribs protruded from his gaunt frame, nauseatingly reminding Rick of how underfed Magnum had been when they’d escaped as POWs. Ugly yellow bruising surrounded the incision, marking the location of the investigator’s three broken ribs.

They’d been escorted from the examination room as soon as the doctor arrived and spent the next two hours restlessly waiting for word on their friend. When they’d finally been given an update, it was a mix of good and bad news, and Rick had barely been able to register everything they’d been told: infection; high fever; malnourished; dehydrated. The list seemed to go on forever, and truth be told, Rick didn’t really care anymore, simply wanting – needing – to lay eyes on his brother.

When they’d finally been allowed to visit, Thomas’ appearance had stolen Rick’s breath. The man in the hospital bed didn’t resemble the man he knew; instead he momentarily thought he was viewing a corpse. TC’s warm hand on his shoulder ushered him into the room and the chair next to Magnum’s bed, a spot which he hadn’t moved from in over two days.

“He’s looking better today,” Calvin remarked as he entered the room, handing a coffee and a brown paper bag to the other man. “Any update from the doc?” he asked as he took the seat on Thomas’ other side.

They’d fallen into a routine of sorts, Higgins, TC and even Katsumoto leaving to bring back provisions and then joining Rick on his vigil at Magnum’s side. When Wright’s eyes burned too badly to keep them open any longer, he’d trudge over the couch that sat against one wall to fall into an exhausted but rarely restful sleep. Sadly, Magnum hadn’t cornered the market on bad dreams.

During those too infrequent and brief bouts of sleep, TC would watch over them both, knowing that Wright was too keyed up to release his hold on unconsciousness around anyone else. Thankfully, Higgins and Katsumoto understood, and merely adjusted their visits to coincide with Rick’s waking hours.

Magnum had been in hospital for two days and had yet to have a lucid moment since his arrival. The doctors were cautiously optimistic that the antibiotics were finally turning the tide against the infection that had taken hold, but as with all things medical, it was a waiting game to see when his fever would break.

In the end, Thomas battled against his body for another day and a half before his temperature dropped and the fever released its hold. Hours later, he briefly opened his eyes to find Rick, TC and Higgins around his bed. The sight tugged his lips upwards in a faint smile before exhaustion pulled him back to the land of the Sandman.

The following evening, Magnum had regained enough energy to stay awake for a short visit, and his curiosity drove him to ask the question that had been plaguing his dreams. “Why aren’t I in prison?”

The four friends traded meaningful glances, the group having gotten together to have dinner in Thomas’ room. Katsumoto bit his lip and shifted his gaze to look out the window, while Higgins cleared her throat in obvious discomfort.

Rick couldn’t help but grin at their reactions, none of them wanting to take credit for what had ended up being a complex series of negotiations and threats. From Katsumoto, they knew McGarrett had played a part, as did Higgins through her contacts at MI-6. If pressed, Rick might admit that he knew a guy, who knew a guy, while TC might mention a conversation or two with Captain Greene.

As the silence lengthened and it became clear no one was ready to speak, Rick decided to jump in. “You know how these things go. A favour here, a favour there, and voila, you’re a free man.”

Magnum’s features telegraphed his disbelief, but he was too tired and grateful to care. Smiling, he took in their self-satisficed expressions, wondering if he’d ever find out the true story behind his release. Deciding a moment later that he didn’t really care, he said, “Thanks everyone, for whatever you did or didn’t do.” A round of smiling faces met his and eased the last of his fears from having been a prisoner once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to AZGirl for proofing; all remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> This story was based on the day 18 prompt: Panic! At the disco: panic attacks / phobias / paranoia
> 
> Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts if you're so inclined!


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